Playing Your Song
by Asphyxiated Angst
Summary: But what I don’t tell you is that I’ll always be playing your song..your song to our memories.Yes. It's yet another John Cena and Lita...sortof romance


Playing your song

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Rating: PG, for alcohol abuse.  
Characters: John Cena and Lita. Reflecting on past CenaLita relationship.  
Summary: As John Cena and Lita say their final goodbye's, the tune of his song is put to the pictures that are their memories.  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the story. All else is owned by Vincent K McMahon and the WWE, I am not making any money from this so nobody is being screwed.  
Notes: This is only fiction and if you don't like the pairing, don't read it. This is personally one of my favorite pairings but I wont force it onto anyone, and unless you haven't watched WWE since Wrestlemania 21, there's no big spoilers there.

* * *

I go to the club. It's an attempt to escape you and our countless memories, but then again, nowadays, isn't everything just that? I know that it's a_ lame and desperate_ attempt, but right now, _anything _will do to rid you of my system and forget _all _about you, if _only_ for one night.

It _isn't_ that I don't love you. That couldn't be _any_ farther from the _real_ truth. As _much_ as I _love_ you, after all _this_ time and all _these_ _unforgettable_ memories, I _finally_ realize that we could _never_ be together, although it's a _little_ late for big epiphany, after you _decided_ that we weren't "worth it" _anymore_.

So I just sit here, on the cold brown bar stool, sipping on my warm vodka _unusually_ slowly, turning my head and arching my back to stretch out all the kinks in my body. As my head slowly turns, a sparkling blue poster catches my eye. But, why? Is it because the vibrant shade of blue reminds me _so_ much of your overly-expressive eyes, or _maybe_ it is because the shade of pale yellow with your saying printed is the exact same shade that you _love_ having _me_ wear? All this and more, but mostly it is the fact that your _achingly_ beautiful face – _complete_ with emotional eyes – is staring back at _me_.

_This_ tugs at my heartstrings.

_Hard_.

But what is _worse_, is probably the fact that you are due to appear in this club at 11 p.m. and as I look at my black leather studded watch – that makes me curse as it was a gift from _you_ – I realize that it is 10:58 p.m. and some time within the next 2 minutes you will be appearing in front of me, and this time, for the first time in months, you wont be a manifestation of my broken heart, you'll actually be here.

And my heart _flutters_ at the mere _thought_ of seeing you again.

As I run my fingers over the smooth metal of the almost pyramid-like shape of one of the studs glued to my watch, I sigh lightly and silently curse my luck as your voice and the beginning few notes of your entrance music hit the speakers and blare loudly, aggravating my sensitive eardrums.

I take a sip from a drink, only one from many of the countless sent from_ "that man across the bar"_ or _"my biggest fan sitting at table number 6." _I _must_ be honest though, I quite like the thought of drinking myself into a stupor, it most _definitely_ beats what will most likely turn into a confrontation between _former_ lovers.

I quickly down the whiskey with a sigh as the warm liquid makes its way down my _almost_-painfully burning throat.

As the whiskey makes its way down my throat, I signal to the bartender to send me vodka on the rocks

I lift the blue-bottomed glass shot glass to my lips, pouring the alcohol down my throat without as much as a second thought crossing my drunken mind.

As the velvety deep crimson curtain lifts and your trademark sneakers are seen protruding the club erupts into cheers and loud wolf-whistles.

As you come out on stage in all your magnificent glory, the microphone pressed to your lips, your voice bellows from the speakers into my favorite song from your album. I don't know if you've noticed me yet, but I know that I _definitely_ noticed you, and the song is right, your time _is_ now. It's _finally_ happened _baby_, your _dream_ has come true, you're playing your song and people are listening. Your dream is _fulfilled_, but _not only_ is your dream finally fulfilled by having such a _large_ crowd _listen_ to your song, but they are _all_ enjoying it, bopping their heads to the beat and cheering your name, loud as anything that I've ever heard.

I signal for one more vodka.

As the end of the song approaches and you begin to disappear behind the velvety curtain, I'm left to wonder. Where do we go from here? You've reached your ultimate goal and you've surpassed it, you're a household name and everybody's in love with you and with your character. Your song is being played everywhere, from no-name small town radio stations to MTV. We've both finally got out careers the way we'd like to have them. I'm finally Women's champion again and you're the reigning WWE champion, and I _thought_ that this would have made it that much better, but _nothing's_ changed.

The music stops and just before the newest techno song hits the speakers and the final few seconds of your music end, I sit still here, knowing that there's _nothing_ that I can do to change your mind and make you love me _again_, and as your voice hits that last word I feel my already-bloodshot eyes fill with tears and finally erupt as I break down and cry.

I feel my bloodshot eyes open once more and I mutter about how Fate is _certainly_ a cruel mistress today, as you look at me, _finally_ seeing me.

I ask you if this is _all_ we were worth, a joyride and a song about the pinnacle of our lives and you say _no_, that _we were much more than that._

My eyes dry and I feel so much better and like a ton of bricks it finally hits me that I'm beginning to get over you..so maybe we _weren't_ a love story waiting to happen.

I tell you that you may think we were more, but that it wasn't the way that you thought it was, and that I'm _finally_ okay without you.

As I turn on my heel, you whisper your goodbye, with a last "I love you…Lita" and I give you a different goodbye. "I love you too John Cena. They're finally playing your song."

But what I don't tell you is that_ I'll_ always be playing your song..your song to our memories.


End file.
